


Blood Magic

by MedicDuFresne



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU, low fantasy setting, more tags to be added as needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:23:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4833548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedicDuFresne/pseuds/MedicDuFresne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders is working his way through his student loans and Hawke is a friendly face he just keeps seeing around. In a world where factions and birth define your loyalties, maybe it's time to try switching sides.</p>
<p>Vampire!AU where Anders studied healing magic and now works at a clinic and Hawke is a vampire surrounded by mixed loyalties and shady deals.</p>
<p>Inspired by http://aforce71.tumblr.com/post/114829512736/vampire-au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Magic

The cool night air sent a chill down Anders’ spine as he walked down the shoddily-lit sidewalk back to his apartment from his shift at the clinic. His breath came out in puffs in the cold. He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and picked up his pace, eager to get home after such an arduous shift. Anders was used to long shifts, but fifteen hours was his limit. All he wanted was to get home, take off his shoes, maybe make some tea, and collapse on his bed with his cat for some long-overdue rest.

The empty street gave him a bit of the creeps, but what else did he expect when walking home at nearly four in the morning. He fingered his phone in his pocket out of nerves, running his finger along his headphone cord. Anders had one earbud in, the other dangling down his chest. The music calmed him and made his commute home go by quicker, but he wasn’t about to risk cutting off his his hearing to the outside world completely.

As his song changed, he heard footsteps hitting the pavement quickly up in the direction he was walking. He focused on keeping his breathing even. It’s fine, other people are allowed to be out at this time of night. He realistically couldn’t be the only one out. Nothing to worry about.

Anders clicked down his music a few notches, and he started hearing what he thought was a few more pairs of footsteps following the first set. He quickened his pace, there was no way he was getting involved with whatever was going on. 

But what if someone was in trouble… it did sound like one was being chased…

The footsteps were getting louder, and Anders realized he was walking right towards where he though the source of the noise was. Muffled shouts sometimes accompanied the sound of feet hitting the pavement, but the voices were definitely getting louder, the words more pronounced. Anders paused his music and pulled out his other earbud, fear rising up in the back of his throat. He could pick out three individual voices, all chasing some other unidentified person.

As he approached the next block, a man came sprinting out from a connecting alley to his left, and lo and behold three other men were hot on his heels. The first man looked over and noticed Anders, and flashed him a bloody smile.

Anders took a step back, shocked and more than a little unnerved by the man’s smile. He watched as bloody-smile man stopped in the middle of the road, then turn on his heels to face his pursuers. Anders was confused at the casual, almost smug, way the man stood, never letting that smile leave his face. The other three quickly caught up to him and circled him in the middle of the road, the light from the dim lamp posts barely illuminating their features enough for Anders to tell the men apart. There was no confusing the first man though, his body language was so vividly different from the others, it was easy to pick him out as the others moved around him.

Their voices carried in the empty street, “You finally done running, eh?”

A smooth laugh echoed down the street, and Anders easily assumed it belonged to bloody-smile man. He saw the man shrug, “Oh I could run a lot longer, I was just trying to be considerate of you fine fellows.”

One of the three, wearing a heavy brown jacket, gestured at bloody-smile with what Anders could see was a decent sized knife. The sight of the weapon made his stomach drop, and he gripped his phone, wondering not for the first time if he should call the police before this got ugly. If he was honest with himself, he was more curious than anything what bloody-smile was going to do.

“Cut the shit,” brown jacket snapped back, “We’re going to gut you like the dog you are, an’ we’ll finally be rid o’ another one o’ you.”

Bloody-smile lifted his hands in surrender, “Oh I’m sure you’d like that, but what about our lovely witness over there? I’m sure he’s memorized all your faces by now and has already called the police.” 

Bloody-smile waved over at Anders, and all three of the men turned to look at him. Anders choked on a gasp and took another step back, cursing himself for not doing exactly what the man had described in the first place. This looked like a fight he did not want to get himself wrapped up in by any means.

A howl of pain came from one of the men. Bloody-smile jumped back from one of them with a knife in his hand, brown jacket now clutching his weaponless arm with pain etched clear on his face. If Anders had to guess, he would guess bloody-smile managed to dislocate his shoulder while brown jacket was distracted.

Now armed, bloody-smile cocked his head at the men, “I think we’re done here, don’t you? Unless you want me to improve your faces with this little thing? Pity, I think it’s too dull to make any real progress, but hey, there’s always room for improvement.”

The men took a step back, brown jacket glaring and clutching his arm. One spat at bloody-smile’s feet, “We’ll be back, with some improvements of our own.”

The men slunk to the other side of the road as bloody-smile called after them, “It’s a date!”

He watched the men leave then crossed back to Anders, who was still a little too shocked to have moved yet. What the seven hells just happened?

As the man got closer, he saw a split top lip was probably the source of the bloody smile. He stopped in front of Anders and offered his hand, “Hawke. Garrett Hawke technically, but I prefer just Hawke. Thanks for distracting them, really did me a solid there man.”

“I’m Anders,” he said, taking the large hand and shaking it, “I, um, I can fix that lip for you.”

Another bloody smile broke out on Hawke’s face, giving Anders the full view of his bloodstained teeth. That lip must have been bleeding for a long time, “Aw, you noticed. By all means, Mr. Anders.”

“Ah, just Anders, please. Hold still,” Anders raised his hand, the blue glow of his magic manifesting on the tips of his fingers. He quickly swiped his fingers across Hawke’s top lip, then held his fingers there for a few seconds as the flesh knit itself back together. Anders stayed concentrated on the small task, eyes only flicking up into Hawke’s once, then immediately regretting it. His eyes were so focused on Anders that the healer felt the tips of his ears heating.

Once the magic had finished, Anders took a healthy step away from the stranger and cleared his throat, “That should do it. Just try not to get punched in the mouth any time soon.”

Hawke chuckled, the same deep, rich tone Anders had heard earlier, “I suppose that’s a fair trade. So, Mage?”

Hawke motioned to Anders’ hand and he found himself nodding, “Yeah. I actually specialize in healing.”

Hawke raised an eyebrow, eyes doing a quick once-over of Anders. The mage felt the heat spread past the tips of his ears as Hawke cocked his head appreciatively, “Well then I picked a good stranger to face certain death in front of. I’ll see you around, Anders.”

He turned with a casual salute and walked back down the alley he originally came from. Anders let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Maker above that man was attractive. He shook his head and resumed walking home, going over what happened over and over in his head.

Once he finally home, he tossed his jacket on the back of the couch. A small paper falling out of the hood caught his attention. He bent down and retrieved it, his stomach giving a little flip when he read what had been scrawled on the page. It was a phone number along with a simple message:

Call me. -H


End file.
